Song Lyric Sunday: a song with no lyrics

So Helen’s prompt for this week was a song about predicting the future, or fortune telling. Folks, I’ve got nothing. No inspiration whatsoever. So I’m just going to share a random song I was listening to this evening. I blame the fact that my kids did this (and more) to the kitchen in a baking session this afternoon, I’ve been trying to repair the damage for the last six hours and I’m on my third glass of wine.



baking day at the kirstwrites ranch


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REM: Try not to Breathe for #SongLyricSunday

Big shout out to Helen this week for teaming up with Marquessa to promote her song lyric fiction challenge – really enjoyed doing that (and you can read my effort here if you’re interested – #shamelessselfpromotion)

So here’s REM’s Try Not to Breathe for this week’s Song Lyric Sunday. Can’t quite believe I haven’t shared an REM song before as they’ve always been one of my favourite bands. Enjoy. Continue reading

The Jean Genie – Sunday night brilliance

Song Lyric Sunday – I’ve missed you guys these last few weeks! I’m going seventies again, with another David Bowie classic: the Jean Genie:

I know, this is really stretching the definition of ‘magic’, which was Helen’s prompt this week. But genies do magic… don’t they? Ok, so these lyrics have nothing to do with magic at all, but this song is awesome. Have a good week everyone!

A small Jean Genie
snuck off to the city
Strung out on lasers
and slash back blazers
Ate all your razors
while pulling the waiters
Talking bout Monroe
and walking on Snow White 19
New York’s a go-go 19
and everything tastes right
Poor little Greenie

The Jean Genie lives on his back
The Jean Genie loves chimney stacks
He’s outrageous, he screams and he bawls
Jean Genie let yourself go!

Sits like a man
but he smiles like a reptile
She loves him, she loves him but
just for a short while
She’ll scratch in the sand,
won’t let go his hand
He says he’s a beautician
and sells you nutrition
And keeps all your dead hair
for making up underwear
Poor little Greenie


He’s so simple minded
he can’t drive his module
He bites on the neon and sleeps in the capsule
Loves to be loved, loves to be loved
(David Bowie,